


A Cure for Insomnia

by MrsHamill



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-27
Updated: 2006-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney thinks John needs more sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cure for Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by several things but most recently a conversation on how Rodney never calls John by his name, only by his rank or his last name. Just another reason for sex, basically.

The best view of the nighttime city was from the top of the southwest pier, but the best place to be alone was on the northeast one. As far as anyone could determine, the northeast pier had mostly been used for heavy manufacturing or something similar -- the science department would love to get the machinery up and running again but staying alive had sort of taken precedence. 

From the northeast pier, you could feel alone in the ocean. What little light pollution Atlantis spilled into the dark was muted there, and the stars, the splash of Pegasus' stars spilled across the dark sky, felt close enough to touch. Since the prevailing winds came from the north, it was also a good place to go to cool off, whether from physical or mental exertion.

John didn't have to hear the footsteps behind him to know Rodney was there. "McKay." He snorted in exasperation but knew he was grinning too. "Just what does a guy have to do to be alone on this planet?"

"I don't know, is that a trick question?" The bench John favored was plenty large enough for both of them and McKay slumped on it. "Why here?"

John shrugged. "It's quiet. Well, it was quiet. And it's a good place to come and think."

"Is that what you're doing? Thinking?"

"What else would I be doing?"

Rodney gave him an outraged glare. "Oh, I don't know, how about _sleeping_? You just got back from--" 

"I don't need a lot of sleep, McKay. Never have." The ocean was so calm it looked like glass. One of the moons was up and it was just beautiful, the kind of beautiful that made him want to learn how to write poetry so he could describe it properly, the kind of beautiful that appeared almost artificial. It was wrong, somehow. He thought about it as he continued. "For just about as long as I can remember, I've had insomnia. Since I was very little, anyway. Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, I'd turn on the light in my room and play until I did." He didn't add that his mother had put a stop to that one night by gliding into his room, turning off the light and sitting with him in the dim glow of the streetlamp. In her soft, gentle voice, she had explained how they had to be very quiet and keep the house dark at night, so his father wouldn't wake up. John had nodded and followed her directions as he always did and anyway, it was better. With just the dim light from outside, he couldn't see the bruises on her face and arms.

When he grew older, he realized he could take a flashlight to bed with him and read under the covers. He made sure to keep one ear listening for his father's heavy tread, just in case. It was easy to tell the difference between them, though he didn't think his father had trouble sleeping like his mother did. "It's not really that important," he added.

"Like hell! Everyone needs to sleep, Colonel. It's a fact of life."

John turned to him and gave him a raised eyebrow. In the light of the moon, Rodney's skin looked less pasty and unhealthy than it did pearlescent, only confirming that something was... off. "You don't. And don't lie, McKay. I've seen you strung out on uppers more times than I can count."

Rodney waved his hands. "Yes, yes, I've gone without sleep for a long time, but never... well, okay, rarely of my own free will. And I've always crashed after, and taken power naps during. Sometimes." He frowned at John who had to struggle to keep from rolling his eyes and grinning. 

"Well, I've trained myself to be able to function pretty well on about four hours of sleep a night," John said. "Did you know if you stretch out on a bed, close your eyes and breathe -- really deeply, you know, and steadily -- even if you don't sleep, your body can feel as if it had?" It was a trick that made people believe John could fall asleep instantly, anywhere and any time. He didn't disabuse them of the notion. 

Rodney gave him a withering look. "Yes, humans can go without sleep for extended periods, and research has shown that even up to ten days without REM sleep won't kill you directly, but you don't want to be doing anything that relies on your brain during that time." Rodney's eyes narrowed. "Unless you've got Familial Fatal Insomnia. Did your mother or father suffer from insomnia?"

John went quite still. Familial Fatal Insomnia? After a moment, he turned away from Rodney and looked out over the ocean. "Yeah. My mother."

"But did she die of it? And do sleeping pills work on you? Or on her?"

"No. Yes. And yes." No, it didn't kill her, not directly anyway. McKay was such a pushy bastard at times.

"Well, then. Situational insomnia is easy to defeat, you just need to establish the proper boundaries. Set up routines, like always going to bed at a certain time and doing the same things each evening to remind your brain that it's time for sleep." 

And Rodney looked so very proud of himself as he said that, as if he were teaching something easy to morons. John rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, because that's so easy for us to do out here since we have eight hour days and whole weekends where we do nothing but fish." The grin came back and John didn't fight it. "Maybe we should put a sign on the stargate with our hours."

"Okay, so that's not so easy to do, but you know what I mean." 

"We could have a different sign for lunchtime and one for 'gone fishing.' Or even 'gone fission,' if the Genii stop by with a housewarming gift."

Rodney made a frustrated noise. "Do you mind? My point is, you can't just... just sit here! You've got to sleep, Colonel." He gave John a look that made John want to run away. "I know what they did to you, you've been beaten pretty severely."

Beaten? John blinked and in that moment realized his shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch, as did his left leg. He frowned and blinked again -- as quickly as it came, the pain was gone. Rodney hadn't noticed and was still talking.

"Sleep, Colonel, Carson says catatonia, even 'atypical' -- whatever the hell that means -- doesn't cut it. You need deep and restorative rest. That's why I'm here, why I managed to be here with you. Don't you have any tricks for getting to sleep? Counting sheep or something?"

Catatonia? John sighed. Most of the time, he had no idea what Rodney was talking about. "There was one time... her name was Shannon. We went to a dance and parked afterwards and yeah, I fell asleep like a baby right after." He looked at Rodney out of the corner of his eye. "Got into a world of pain from her father, though, so I figured I couldn't very well rely on that method." And because getting caught meant moving to yet another foster family, he made sure it would never happen again. 

Rodney made a rude noise and suddenly, John thought of a good way to keep the guy quiet, keep him from sticking his nose in where it really didn't belong. "Might work, though," he drawled, cutting Rodney off, "but unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be anyone around to fuck, Rodney." He had to struggle to keep from laughing as he waited for the explosion. "Unless you're willing to volunteer, that is."

To his amazement, the explosion didn't come. "So, having sex puts you to sleep?"

He was astonished enough by the response that he turned to look directly at Rodney, who had what looked like a smirk playing around his mouth. "Well... not like that, but... yeah." Dammit, when would the man stop surprising him?

"And I take it that simple masturbation doesn't hack it."

John felt his face heat up and glared. "If it did, I wouldn't be sitting here," he ground out. Wherever 'here' was.

"Well, then."

Feeling backed into a corner (yet again; Jesus wept, he should have throttled McKay when he had the chance), John gave up and into his confusion. "Well then what?"

"Your place or mine?" Yes, that was definitely a smirk. 

After another moment of shock, John decided to play along. It was only fair, after all, and he was certain Rodney would back out. "Mine, then. _My_ bed is soft."

McKay narrowed his eyes. "How did you..." He trailed away and his mouth tightened. "Cadman."

"Yep."

"That bitch. I'll have you know that is a very expensive prescription mattress. I have a bad back."

"You are a hypochondriac."

"That too." Rodney stood. "You coming?"

And there was no way in hell John was going to make a joke about _that_ , even as his mouth disengaged from his brain and he did. Giving Rodney a suspicious look, John rose to his feet. "I don't know, am I?"

"You will soon enough, Colonel," Rodney replied. John found himself wanting to hit that smirk. "If you follow me, that is."

"Oh, I follow you, McKay. I follow you a bit too much, I think," John muttered. But he let Rodney lead the way back into Atlantis proper, back into corridors strangely silent and dimly glowing. "We're talking about having sex and you're still calling me by my title," he groused. "Don't you know my damn name, McKay?"

"Of course I know your name," Rodney snapped. "I just find it helpful to use your rank as a way to maintain the dynamics of our relationship."

"Our _relationship_? What relationship?"

"The relationship you and I have. The one where I lead and you follow, protecting me." Now John could _hear_ the smirk. "It's good to know you understand I'm the brains of this outfit."

They reached the transporter and entered. Before Rodney could speak again or touch the map, John crowded him back against the wall. "How about the relationship where I'm the one protecting you from yourself?" he said, using his best growling voice, planting his hands on the wall on either side of Rodney's head. "Or have we forgotten our lessons so quickly?"

Rodney looked momentarily flustered but then his mouth set in a thin line. "No, Colonel, I have not forgotten my lessons, nor have I forgotten those lessons took away your trust in me. I'm all too aware that I'm still on probation in that area, never fear."

There were shadows in Rodney's eyes and John knew he'd put them there. Good. The guy needed to learn boundaries. "Just checking, McKay."

They glared at each other for a few moments, then John stepped away, half-turning, reaching for the map. To his surprise, Rodney grabbed a fistful of John's t-shirt and yanked him back. "Don't worry, I'm still working on it," he said, his voice doing a pretty good imitation of John's growl. Then he really shocked the hell out of John by leaning in and kissing him.

It was a good kiss, a hard kiss, their teeth clacked together and John found himself flashing back to the time when a Cadman-controlled Rodney kissed Beckett. John felt a little like how Beckett must have felt, especially when the kiss ended as abruptly as it began. 

"And for the record," Rodney said, his voice still low and hard, "while I like being on the bottom at times, I prefer to switch. Just so you know." Rodney released John's t-shirt and reached out, touching the map on the place which would bring them out closest to John's quarters.

"I'll keep that in mind," John said, flustered. This was _so_ not working out the way he'd expected it to.

Then again, when had anything? Lately, it seemed as though he were not in control of his life at all, but rather careening from one artificial crisis to another, with no time to prepare or even plan to prepare. Around every corner were hostiles, wanting a piece of him or a piece of Atlantis, which, John had come to realize, amounted to the same thing. He'd never felt at home anywhere until he came here, to the Pegasus galaxy. And how sad was that?

"Good. You do that. We may be in a virtual reality, but I have a feeling this is going to have repercussions on us afterwards. Which is a good thing." Rodney looked thoughtful and John felt confused, more confused, anyway. "And Elizabeth didn't believe me when I said I was the best person to follow you in here." Rodney snorted and John sighed.

Almost before he realized it, they were in his quarters. They hadn't passed anyone and it felt almost like John had been sleepwalking, wading through deep water. With a start, it dawned on him that he really was exhausted, maybe more than exhausted, and felt achy and sore on top of it, not just his shoulder and his leg. Rodney was giving him a peculiar look. "What?"

"Just wondering where you were," Rodney said. "Wondering if you were still here, with me. Virtually, anyway."

John stared at Rodney, who stared right back and John had a pretty good idea what his face looked like, because Rodney's must have been mirroring it. When had this obnoxious, arrogant, pain in the ass person become so important to John? "I'm still here," he said slowly. His jaw was also beginning to ache. "I'm just wondering why you are."

"What, here?" 

John rolled his eyes. "No, in the Pegasus galaxy. Of course here. I'm no Samantha Carter, Rodney."

"Thank God for that!" Rodney replied with a grimace. "That woman drives me crazy at times. Not that you don't."

"Rodney..."

"What?" Rodney put his hands on his hips and glared. "What is your problem?"

"You! You're my problem, and you have been since this damn mission began! You can't possibly be serious that you'd want to have sex with me because I'm--"

"And why not?"

"--in need of sleep and why not is because I'm male!"

"Obviously! So?"

Why were they shouting? "Oh, fuck this," John muttered.

"No, fuck _me_ , Colonel Sheppard, shut up and fuck _me_." With that, Rodney shoved him back against the wall and plastered his lips to John's. 

John's hand flew up of their own accord to frame Rodney's face and he found himself kissing back. How long had it been since he'd kissed anyone? John found himself trying to think back but he kept getting distracted by Rodney's tongue, insistently demanding his full attention, much like the rest of Rodney. After the initial assault, though, Rodney gentled the kiss until it was slow, wet, very dirty and very, very good. 

Warm lips, warm tongue, spit filling both mouths; it was hot and sweet and John could have gone on forever, lazily mapping Rodney McKay's mouth. And his mouth wasn't the only hot thing, there was a hot, hard length poking John in the crease of his thigh, a match for one of his own. Rodney pushed his leg between John's and ground up, slowly and deliberately. John moaned.

Rodney left his mouth to chew along his jaw line to his ear. "God, you're hot," he muttered. "I've been wanting to do this for ages."

"You're... you're kidding, right," John gasped as Rodney found one of his most sensitive spots and sucked. _Hard._

"Hell no, you looked in a mirror lately?" Rodney licked around the shell of his ear and John shuddered. "I've wanted in your pants almost from the first time we met." Rodney's hands were everywhere, sliding up John's t-shirt to pinch and twist a nipple, shoving down into his pants to drag his nails slowly through his pubic hair. 

"I thought..." Rodney bunched up John's t-shirt and lowered his mouth to the nipple he'd been tormenting, all but ignoring John's words, "...I thought you only liked... ah, God... blondes?"

Rodney bit John's teat sharply before replying. "Apparently, I'm also attracted to brunet lieutenant colonels. Or maybe it's just lieutenant colonels in general."

John wanted to answer that but before he could, Rodney slid to his knees and began undoing John's pants. "Jesus, Rodney."

"No, just Rodney. Though I have been accused of that before, I'm not really into the whole deity thing." Rodney got John's pants open and pushed them and John's boxers down. John's hard-on sprang forward and Rodney caught it on his tongue. "Oh, yeah," Rodney moaned, licking the head of it. John felt his eyes bug out and the breath caught in his throat at the sight. Rodney looked up at him (through obscenely long lashes) and slowly sucked John's dick into his mouth.

John banged his head on the wall behind him, trying to keep from coming instantaneously. It was a near thing; it had been far too long with just his own hand for company and Rodney was good at giving head, really, really good. He licked slowly, slurping and sucking, going deep into his mouth, using his long fingers to tease at John's balls and the skin behind them. John tried to widen his stance to give Rodney more access, but couldn't, since his pants and boxers were tangled around his ankles. 

It was hot and wet and really, really good, perfect, even, watching Rodney on his knees blowing him. And it didn't seem like Rodney was going for subtlety, either, but rather for a quick, hard finish. Not that John was complaining. You don't complain about possibly the best blowjob ever, especially when you think it's going to make you come so hard you might see stars.

He was panting and trying hard to keep from thrusting but Rodney made it difficult, especially when he let go of John's dick with a noisy slurp and whispered, "Go on, fuck my mouth. I know you want to."

Well, John wasn't about to go against _that_ order, especially as he felt his climax burning up his legs and down his spine. He started slow, but Rodney didn't seem to have a problem and shortly, John was snapping his hips back and forth, shoving his cock into Rodney's crooked mouth. Then Rodney managed to work one finger into John's crack and rub over his hole, and that's all it took. With a yell that might have been heard all the way back to Earth, John came, the feeling of pouring his life out of his dick so very strong he thought he might die. 

Rodney just kept on swallowing, kept up a low suction until John curled down on himself, gasping for air so he could say Rodney's name. Finally, Rodney let go and rose, latching on to John's lips again with his own and John could taste himself in Rodney's mouth. They stood there, Rodney holding John up and kissing him for a long moment, until the aftershocks began to diminish and his legs stopped shaking so hard.

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you," John whispered when Rodney broke for air.

"I do," Rodney said, sucking on John's lower lip. "Don't worry. We're not done here. I've got you for as long as it takes to wear you out and put you to sleep."

"Is that so?" John replied, running his hands up underneath Rodney's t-shirt, looking for warm flesh. "Did you know that I always wondered how sensitive your nipples are? They're always poking out of your t-shirt..."

Rodney barked out a laugh then twisted away from John's twitchy fingers. "If you want to find out, you've got to come over here," he said. With one motion, he pulled his t-shirt off and kicked off his shoes, even as he backed towards John's bed. "And I didn't say I _only_ wanted you to fuck me." He skinned out of his pants and boxers, leaving his clothing in a heap on the floor. "Believe me, you'll be hard enough when the time comes."

"Arrogant bastard," John said fondly, as he toed off his shoes and shed his own clothes.

"Yes, arrogant, because I know how good I am." Rodney, now naked, stood easily at the side of John's bed. "And I have a plan, too."

"You have a plan?" John hadn't moved but stayed where he was, looking his fill. Rodney wasn't ripped, he didn't have washboard abs or well-defined muscles. But he was solid. The 'spare tire' he'd once worn around his middle had faded due to exercise and now he looked far healthier. And beautiful, John surprised himself by thinking, he was beautiful.

"I have a plan. Let me tell you my plan, Colonel. First, I'm going to rim you." John felt his eyes grow wide and Rodney's smirk grew with it. "I love rimming, getting or receiving. You know why? Because the person receiving goes absolutely batshit crazy, that's how good it feels. The first time I had it done to me, I thought I was going to die from it. And the first time I did it to someone else, well, the power trip is incredible. So I'm going to rim you for a long, long time, and get you nice and wet and loose."

John swallowed hard and took a step towards Rodney.

"Then, I'm going to fuck you, hard and deep. You're going to feel me in your throat and you're going to love it. But I won't let you come, even though you're going to want to because once I'm done inside you, you're going to fuck me. And since I'll be in a pretty forgiving mood by that time, if you want to do anything else to me? I'll probably say yes." John took another step and Rodney's smirk faded into something far more serious, far needier. "I've got you, Colonel. Relax and enjoy, okay?" he finished, nearly murmuring. 

" _John_ ," John whispered back. Then he was on Rodney and they started kissing again.

And it was much better kissing Rodney while naked. John melted into the kiss and pressed himself up against Rodney, as tightly as he could, running his hands up and down Rodney's back, feeling Rodney's hands do the same to him. Warm skin. When they finally broke for air again, John felt an oddness, a strange sort of... ripple... in the air around them. He looked up in confusion, then back to Rodney, who was giving him a look that defied description. "There's something... wrong, isn't there?" he murmured.

It wasn't a smirk, and if it was a smile, it was shadowed with something that might have been sadness. "Sort of." Rodney cupped John's cheek in his hand. "Do you remember being caught? On P5T-188?"

Why was that planet familiar? "I..."

"They... we got you out, finally, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it took so long." Rodney looked almost devastated and John blinked in sudden memory.

"Where were you? It was... it was..."

"Two weeks. I know. They made us believe they'd taken you off-world... It's not important now. I guarantee you're safe, you're home and you're safe. I know I haven't earned it back all the way yet, but please, trust me on this one." Rodney ran one thumb over John's cheekbone.

John searched Rodney's face, looking for something, though he wasn't sure what. "I can do that," he finally murmured, leaning in for another sweet kiss. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, to savor and cherish the moment, soft, warm, bruised lips caressing his own. Something _was_ wrong, there was something niggling at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't quite place it. Finally, he gave up and let it go, let it rest in Rodney's capable hands. "I've never been rimmed before," he said when he ended the kiss. He opened his eyes to find Rodney's face more relaxed than he'd ever seen it. 

"On your hands and knees, then, flyboy," Rodney murmured, with a silly leer. "I'll show you how it's done."

And oh, yeah, Rodney was as good at rimming as he was at everything else. He spread John's cheeks and dove in, taking a broad swipe up John's perineum and circling his hole. After the first lick, John jumped and started trembling, and once Rodney stabbed inside, he felt like he was going to collapse. Rodney kept his hands on John's hips, holding him steady on the edge of the bed while John melted into his crossed arms, making embarrassing mewling noises. Occasionally, Rodney would press his thumb to the area just behind John's balls, and all that did was make him hotter and harder.

He thought he could come, just from having Rodney's tongue fucking him so intimately. It wasn't until he felt Rodney push his hand away that John realized he was jacking himself in time to Rodney's thrusts. "Uh-uh, none of that," Rodney murmured and John whimpered to have lost Rodney's tongue. "Not yet, anyway. You look so damn hot like this," Rodney continued. When John felt the first touch on his hole, he thought it was Rodney's tongue again, but it wasn't, it was far larger and hotter. And harder. "You're all laid out like a twenty-dollar whore, begging for it." Rodney began pushing in, slow but inexorably and John whimpered. It felt so _good_ and where the lube had come from, he had no idea, but Rodney's cock was slick with something. "I knew you'd be like this, knew you'd be so good, so responsive. Wanted this forever, never thought I could have it."

John couldn't decide if Rodney rimming him was a good thing or a bad thing -- it felt far beyond fantastic but Rodney couldn't talk while rimming and that was bad, surprisingly. Because Rodney in heat talked in ways that John had only dreamt of.

"God! You're tight, so damn tight." Rodney was pushing all the way in, slowly, agonizingly slow. "Uh... so good. Want to go deep, want to crawl inside you and just never come out, want to fuck you so hard..." And there, he was all the way in, his balls nestled up against John's. Rodney was panting as hard as John was. "Good... so fucking good... I can't believe we aren't really doing this... You feel so good, even better than I'd ever hoped. Ever dreamed. No, don't move, don't, I'm... I'm really close here and I want to make it good for you and for me... I've wanted this for so damn long..." 

Just as slowly as he pressed in, Rodney began to pull out. As he did, his cock raked over John's prostate and the feeling made all of John's muscles clench. " _Fuck_!" he yelled, shoving back hard.

"Oh... no no no..." That must have done it because suddenly Rodney was slamming back in, setting up a punishing rhythm of in and out, as hard as he could. John grabbed at the blanket on the bed and held on, adding his own grunts to Rodney's voice, meeting each thrust forward with one back of his own. With each shove, Rodney yelled something until he froze in place, buried so deeply in John that yes, he could feel Rodney in his throat. Gasping, they were both gasping, and Rodney was shuddering in his climax that John thought he could feel inside him. 

It took Rodney more than a few minutes to recover, and though John didn't want to wait, he had to and somehow refrained from jerking himself off. Finally, Rodney began to collapse and John managed to deflect him to the bed at the last moment. He held in a whimper as he felt Rodney's dick slip out of his spasming hole.

Creakily, John pushed himself upright on his knees, unused to bending over for so long (though it was worth it, his whole body was singing after that treatment). He found Rodney laid out cross-wise on the bed, a stunned grin on his face, and John couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "I think it's my turn," he said.

Rodney cracked one eye open and looked at John. As a slow, lascivious smile spread over his face, he said, "Oh, yeah. I think you're right." His one open eye was focused on the lower middle part of John's body.

Glancing down at the hard-on he still sported, John said, "And I believe you said I could do anything I wanted to you."

Spreading his arms wide, Rodney said, "I am yours, Colonel Sheppard. All yours. Both in simulacra and in reality, I promise."

And didn't that set up a resonance somewhere deep inside John? "Simulacra?" he murmured.

"Think _Aurora_ , Colonel," Rodney replied, stretching his arms over his head. "Better than real."

John frowned for a moment, trying to track down the feeling but was, yet again, sidetracked by impatient Rodney. The guy must have ADHD. "Well?"

With a grin, John crawled on the bed and flopped down next to Rodney. " _John_ , Rodney. So, I guess this is a good time to see if your nipples are as sensitive as I think they are," he said. "And to find your ticklish spots."

Rodney sighed and appeared to be unsuccessfully hiding his grin. "Just remember, someone being tickled is someone not willing to part with sexual favors," he said.

"I'll keep that in mind." 

Such a wealth of skin Rodney had, from his broad chest to his shoulders and his long legs. And his crooked lips, his generous mouth which was so good at giving head. John started with that, spent some more time just kissing and petting, sharing warmth and feelings. When he pulled away and opened his eyes, he found Rodney staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Rodney said after a moment, though his voice was thick. "Kiss me some more."

"I can do that." And he liked doing that too, and he liked kissing down Rodney's jaw to his neck, and hearing Rodney's little, breathy moans when he found a sensitive spot. His nipples were indeed big  erogenous zones, if his reactions were anything to go by. He particularly liked having them bitten and arched up every time John did. He spent a lot of time playing on Rodney's chest, licking and sucking, biting every now and then and cataloging ticklish spots for some later day's blackmail.

John was amused to note Rodney's erection was making a valiant attempt at an early come-back, and played with it a while, encouraging it to grow. It had felt enormous in his ass and John would like to see it properly. Rodney's balls were on the small side but still sensitive; he squirmed when John mouthed them and let his legs fall apart to give John better access. "Oh, yes, that's good," he gasped, part of a running litany of words that just fell from his mouth like rain. "Please, yes, please there..." and "Are you trying to kill me?" and "Dothatagain, oh! DothatagainPlease..."

He must have been getting desperate because he finally shoved a tube of lube at John. "While this is wonderful and fabulous and I'm so glad my skin fascinates you so would you mind getting to the rest of it while I'm still conscious?"

Laughing, John took the tube and kissed Rodney hard. "It figures you'd be an obnoxious bottom."

"I'm an obnoxious top too," Rodney agreed, rolling to his stomach. "I'm just obnoxious in general and now would be a very good time to... omigod yes."

John found Rodney's hole and was massaging it firmly. "Like that, then?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes, yes, you can stop teasing now and get to the main event, here," Rodney said, shoving back against John's finger. 

"Hang on, Rodney, there's pleasure in the waiting too," John said, pushing his finger inside Rodney.

"Oh God no, not anymore there isn't," Rodney panted. "Two, go with two, it's okay..."

"Rodney..." But John went with two, slicked them up with far more lube than was strictly necessary and pressed them inside, finding his own sense of urgency in Rodney's tumbled words. 

Three fingers were met with "Oh my God, get inside me this instant or I won't be held responsible, I swear to you..."

"Rodney!" John said, half laughing, half so turned on and so hard he could pound nails. He rolled Rodney over and lifted his legs. "Like this," he murmured, lining himself up.

"Oh, yes, you're a genius," Rodney gasped, arching into John's touch. "More..."

"I can do that," John said, pressing inside. "Stay still, dammit!"

"I can't... it's so good..." Rodney was writhing, twisting, impaled on John's cock, still going in. "God! Yes!"

Must have hit his prostate, John thought, struggling to stay sane and rational and it was a losing battle. "You're so damn tight, McKay," he growled. 

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," Rodney moaned. "In reality and virtual reality."

All the way in, John was all the way in and he froze, thinking about Fibonacci numbers and Wraith breeding habits to try and keep from coming. Rodney wasn't making it any easier, shuddering and squirming around, panting and gasping for more, for deeper. John stayed still, closing his eyes finally  -- if he saw Rodney's flushed and ecstatic face again, he was going to come and he was pretty sure it would be game over at that point.

"Oh... God..." Back far enough from the brink, John opened his eyes when Rodney spoke. "Yeah... move, you've got to move, please..."

"Just... a minute, just one more minute," John ground out. 

"No," Rodney whined. "If you don't move... goddammit, I'm gonna come any second and if you don't..."

"Just a minute, Rodney..."

"Colonel Sheppard, move your ass right now or I swear..."

"Damned pushy bottom," John said, beginning to pull out, as slowly as he could. "You... what is with you? You never use my name, you never... damn... You can't use my name for once? Even when I'm fucking you?"

"What?" Rodney looked completely guileless and well-fucked and confused. He reached for his erection and John batted his hand away.

"I'll do that, and goddammit, call me by my damn name..."

"I do too, I..."

"No, you don't!" John punctuated his point by slamming back in. Rodney arched hard and locked up, his channel grabbing John's dick like it had no intention of ever letting go and John lost it, shoving back and forth hard. "Damned pushy bottom, top, just Rodney and... and..."

But Rodney was gone, he was coming, coming so hard it looked like he was going to pass out, like he was going to _faint_ and it was beautiful. John watched Rodney's face contort as he fucked the guy hard, driving into Rodney's body like a pile driver and Rodney was going to feel it in the morning, hell, they both were, even if this was nothing but a virtual reality simulacrum, but it didn't matter. John drove in and out, seeking his completion and finding it, inside Rodney McKay.

Then he had just enough sense not to fall on top of the guy before falling into a deep, blissful sleep.

* * *

John came aware of himself slowly, aware of a muted light on his face and a warm body pressed up against his. He took a deep breath -- smelling the medicinally-scented air of the infirmary -- and winced as his ribs -- shoulder -- leg -- and was that his toe? -- complained. Not a virtual pain, either. None of it could stop the smile from growing on his face, though. 

There was a warm breath in his ear that tickled, just a little bit. The voice was just as warm as the body and the breath and said the word he'd longed to hear. "John."

end


End file.
